


Heavy Heat of Spring

by Rumaan



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Greek myth AU, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 07:18:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rumaan/pseuds/Rumaan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fascinated with the Lord Commander of the Underworld's visits to her gardens, Sansa decides to seize him for her own. A Hades/Persephone reversal AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heavy Heat of Spring

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by [this](http://justnuts.tumblr.com/post/69429951729/democracyandassassination-hawk-and-handsaw) tumblr post. When I read it, I couldn't resist giving it a Jon/Sansa makeover. 
> 
> The title comes from Robbie Blair's [Deliver](http://robbieblair.com/poetry/deliver/).
> 
> This isn't beta-ed, so please ignore the dodgy grammar, any typos or awkward sentences. I don't have a beta in this fandom so if anyone would be willing to help me out with my SPaG, I would be grateful.
> 
> Disclaimer: I'm not GRRM, if he wrote fanfiction, it would probably be of a SanSan bent.

 

Sansa spied him once more wandering through her flowers, his hands out trailing over the petals, caressing them gently. She watched as he moved towards her rose garden and saw her opportunity when he bent to smell one of the blooms bursting into flower. Whispering into her hands, the climbing tendrils reached out and ensnared him, curling around his wrists and ankles and pinning him in place, whilst the roses fused together to create a cage. She didn’t move as he thrashed wildly, dropping to his knees as the vines released him. He stopped for a moment, panting rapidly before standing and pacing around the confined space, probing at several points until he withdrew to the centre and puffed out his cheeks in frustration at his plight.

She had been watching his visits for the last few moons, entranced as at first he had been bewildered by the profusion of colour and scents, a frown marring his austere face, but slowly he had been seduced by the warmth and beauty, a small smile gracing his lips as he always snapped off a few flowers before withdrawing back to his ice kingdom.

The plan had grown slowly in her mind, springing from the loneliness she felt when he left and she thought on the families her other siblings were gathering around them. So she had planned his demise and allowed a satisfied smile to briefly bloom on her face.

Smoothing her hair back and shaking her skirts into place, she moved out from the shady orchard and into the sunshine. She caught the moment that he spotted her, his eyes dropping from her red hair glinting in the sunshine, to the green of her dress, and down to her bare feet that peeped out of her full skirts, and his mouth dropped open.

She stood in front of the living cage, wrapping her hands around the bars and smiled sweetly. “Let’s see what have my flowers caught for me?”

“What is the meaning of this?” he asked, his brows drawn together. “Why have you trapped me?”

“Why, Lord Commander, it seems my flowers have become so accustomed to your presence that they have decided to keep you.”

He gave her a confused look.

“You have been visiting here rather a lot,” she elaborated, secretly delighting in the red flush that suffused his cheeks.

“It’s pretty,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment.

Her smile grew into a grin. “Who would have thought the Lord Commander of the Underworld would enjoy my little garden so much.”

“I won’t come back if that is why you have imprisoned me.”

“Ah, but what if I like having you here? Maybe I don’t want you to leave – ever.”

“What do you want with me?”

“Mayhap the question should be what I don’t want with you.”

He said nothing to this and Sansa sighed sadly. She was tired of being on her own, tired of fending off those who sought her for nothing but what she could bring them. Once upon a time, she had been naïve and full of dreams, but those had withered as one person after another had disappointed her. Now she was at a stage where she was fed up with waiting and was going to take what she wanted, and she had decided that she wanted this man, who was strangely alluring despite his solemn demeanour.

“I want everything with you, Jon. I want happiness and love and marriage and children, and don’t try to deny that you do not wish for this either. I have seen the longing deep within you as you traipsed through my gardens,” she said, leaning forward, her breath feathering his face. “And I can give you that.”

His grey eyes met hers and she was delighted to see the temptation written in their depths before he steeled his features, moving back into the depths of his cage. “I cannot remain here. My duty is to the realm of the dead. Now release me!”

Sansa shrugged. “If you can escape my roses, then you are free to return, but whilst they hold you captive, you remain mine.”

She should not have been so amused by the look he gave her but she was, and when he tugged distractedly on his curls, she smothered her laugh and thrilled in his heavy stare that remained steadily on her as she moved around watering her garden for the rest of the afternoon.

 

\--------

Once the sun had receded, she brought him a platter of lemon cakes and a pitcher of honey milk. “You must be hungry,” she said, as the creepers parted just wide enough for her pass the food through.

Whilst she had put his food together, she had fantasised about feeding him the delicate morsels, his full lips kissing the sticky lemony residue from her fingers, and looking at him now holding the platter in his large hands, she blushed, tempted to lean forward and act out her desires.

However, he proved as stubborn as his reputation said he was, and he placed the platter down, shaking his head. “I know not to eat outside of my world.”

“Jon,” Sansa said with a pout. “This could be so easy, why must you make it hard?”

“How long do you plan on keeping me here?”

“How intractable do you intend on being?” she asked, leaning against the cage and walking her fingers up his arm. “We could have a good life here.”

“I swore to defend my realm and I vowed to have no wife or child. I cannot give you what you want.”

She sighed. “I will not let you go until you agree to stay with me. I have watched and desired you for too long. You will find I can be just as obstinate as you, Jon Snow.”

 

\--------

Weeks passed in this stalemate. Jon refused to eat and was adamant that his role was in the Underworld, and Sansa refused to release him. He spent his days watching her tend her garden and she couldn’t help the fission of pleasure that shivered down her back under his grey gaze. They settled into an uneasy routine, Jon refusing to back down and Sansa keeping him imprisoned, when the outside intruded. Sansa knew as soon as they stepped into her garden, the aura strange and unfamiliar. This was someone she had never met before.

A large, fat man shambled into view, and she knew he was from the Underworld as he was dressed head to foot in black. A white direwolf padded at his side. She withdrew from sight, hiding in the shadows of her orchard and watched as the pair weaved their way through her gardens into the centre where Jon was located. The beast jumped up at the bars, using his paws to try and scrabble a hole.

“Ghost! Sam!” Jon called out, a smile wreathing his face and for the first time Sansa felt a little guilt at her actions.

“I was worried, Lord Commander. We weren’t sure where you had gone. It was only when Satin mentioned the flowers you had picked from your previous outings did I think to come here.”

Jon’s cheeks reddened and the fat man fidgeted, his hands fluttering a little as he anxiously examined all the angles.

“I’m not sure how to get you out, Lord Commander” he said. “Mayhap if I came back with Donal Noye.”

Sansa watched Jon’s face closely, waiting to see if he would grab at the opportunity to leave. Of course she could hinder any who sought access to her gardens, delaying their ability to reach Jon, but the perverse side of her wanted him to want to stay, to keep the battle of wills private between them. She was not disappointed.

“No, it’s okay, Sam. I will get out and soon, but I need to do this alone.”

“But, Lord Commander, we need to keep the dead in check. They have started to come to the Wall already.”

“Double the patrols and contact the other gods, see if they will send reinforcements.”

“Lord Commander-,” Sam started to say.

“No, Sam! My mind is made up. Return to Castle Black and make sure everything is running smoothly. I will be home soon.”

Sam looked uncomfortable, worry flitting across his face, his mouth opening to argue once more before he took in the mulish set to Jon Snow’s features. Instead, he nodded resignedly and clicked his fingers to Ghost, who ignored him and settled down, resting his head on his paws.

“Ghost, go with Sam!” Jon ordered, but it appeared the wolf was as stubborn as his master, the only indication that he heard his instructions was the twitching of his ears.

“Mayhap it’s better if he remains,” Sam said, looking uneasily around, his eyes flickering unseeing past where Sansa was concealed.

Jon said nothing, just giving a brief wave of farewell, watching his friend out of sight, before turning his eyes to where Sansa was standing.

“You can come out now. Not that Sam would have hurt you anyway.”

Before spending so much time with him, Sansa would have been surprised that he could see her, she was a master of disguise when needed, but now she knew very little escaped his notice. It was as if he saw through her layers, down to the core, not wanting her for what she could bring but for who she truly was. It made her determined to keep him.

She approached warily, unsure if Ghost would attack or not, but she need not have feared, as he sniffed her skirt and outstretched hand, before licking her fingers gently. She smiled and twined her hand in the fur around his neck.

“He likes you,” Jon said with raised eyebrows.

“Mayhap he senses his owner is not too averse to his current conditions.”

Jon said nothing, keeping his grey eyes fixed on her face.

“Why did you not leave? You had the opportunity to,” she asked.

“You mean you would not have hurt my men if they had come for me.”

A flash of anger ran through her, drawing her eyebrows together and clenching her jaw. “Is that what you think of me? That I would look to maim others?”

He laughed softly before moving until he was right up to the climbing bars. “Oh Sansa, no! I do not think you have it in you to be so cruel.”

She twined her fingers through his. “Why will you not eat of my food? You enjoy it here, we could be happy.”

His thumb stroked across her palm, sending delicious shivers down her spine, and she saw the emotions warring across his face before it set to a steely determination. “I cannot abandon my duty. It would be selfish of me.”

Sansa went to snatch her hand back, irritation coursing through her, but his grip tightened. “Duty will not keep you warm at night and it is not selfish to grab at happiness when it presents itself. We all know it can be fleeting.”

Lips turned down, he shrugged. “I knew my fate when I took up my position. I cannot just turn away from it now for my own personal gain.”

“But yet you did not take the opportunity to return to you when offered.”

He paused, his thumb stilling against her hand, and his eyes met hers, his reluctance to leave written in their grey depths. “I… did not think to leave like that.”

Smiling softy, her free hand brushed the stray curl away from his forehead. “And that tells me all I need to know.”

 

\--------

Sam’s intrusion into the gardens brought on an avalanche of visitors, the ravens had obviously been sent and his whereabouts revealed.

First, it was her sister Arya, her hunting bow in hand, slim blade hanging from her hip, her pack of acolytes hovering hesitantly on the edge of Sansa’s gardens.

“This is madness, Sansa. Jon is needed elsewhere. You cannot keep him captive in your garden forever.”

Restless and free spirited, Arya could never remain still. She paced now, her arms gesticulating wildly as she made her points, not holding back on harsh and damning words. Once upon a time, Sansa would have risen at the frank words Arya used, but now she remained calm, rebuffing all that Arya threw at her.

Next it was her two younger brothers, Bran and Rickon, although it was only Bran who argued with her, claiming she was unbalancing the world and imperilling them all. When she refused to agree to her brother’s request to release Jon, she saw the respect and admiration in Rickon’s eyes. Wild Rickon, who revelled and ran through the worlds like a small hurricane, his enormous black wolf in his wake, had never thought his gentle and proper sister could do something so daring.

Finally, her elder brother and mother came to her. Exasperation was written on Robb’s face. His crown was askew and his curls looked as if he had been tugging at them.

“Sansa, this is giving me a massive headache. I have the other gods complaining and petitioning me to use my power to force you to release Jon. I do not wish to do so, but the ice is melting and if the Wall falls, then the land of the living will be overrun.”

By this point Sansa’s will had turned to steel. She was not going to give Jon up. He was hers and he knew it.

“Speak to our cousin about that. He is the one refusing to settle this so a new Lord Commander can be selected.”

Robb placed his hands on her shoulders, concern making his eyes soft. “You cannot keep him here against his will. It is not right.”

She laughed at that. “Dear, sweet brother, do you really think Jon is here unwillingly? How do you think I trapped him in the first place? He has been coming to my gardens for the last few moons, admiring my flowers, stealing some to brighten his dark, cold home. He wishes to be here but he is too stubborn to admit it.”

Robb rocked back on his heels, looking at Jon, who could not meet his gaze, and understanding dawned on her older brother’s face before he shook his head and said in a frustrated tone, “A solution needs to be found.”

Her mother moved forward from where she had hung back, observing and analysing the situation. “It seems that a compromise is needed.”

All three heads turned to face her. “A compromise?” Robb asked.

“It seems Lord Commander Snow is caught in two minds,” Catelyn said with a piercing glance at the man in question, who sheepishly hung his head. “It appears we need to find a way so that he can spend his time betwixt the two worlds.”

Disapproval was evident in her mother’s voice but Sansa did not care, and it appeared Robb didn’t either. “That sounds viable,” he said as if grasping onto straws. “A way to keep everyone happy.”

“I don’t think-,” Jon started to say before Robb cut him off.

“Jon, I’ve spoken to both Donal Noye _and_ Samwell Tarly, if you were that desperate to return to Castle Black then you would have jumped at the suggestion they gave you.”

Jon opened his mouth briefly, as if to argue, but flicked a quick glance at Sansa before muttering, “If there is a way to arrange that then I would be grateful.”

Sansa allowed a triumphant smile to grow on her face but decided to keep silent. She had won and needed to add nothing else.

“I suggest splitting the year in half with Lord Commander Snow returning for the next six moons to the Underworld,” Catelyn said astringently.

Sansa made a noise in protest but was cut short by her mother. “Sansa, your actions have repercussions. The dead have risen and are attacking the Wall. The Lord Commander needs to present to lead his men. Once the wights have been subdued, he will need to make plans so such a thing does not happen again whilst he spends time here. I think a Deputy Lord Commander will have to be appointed.”

Jon nodded in agreement and Sansa had to recognise the sense in the words.

“Right, now we have that organised, I think it is time to release Jon from his flowery cage,” Robb said, a smirk on his lips as he viewed the roses that bloomed along the vines, contrasting so sharply with the man dressed in black imprisoned by them.

“Yes, it is probably best if Lord Commander Snow returns now,” Catelyn said.

“Mother, I think we can give them one night before they are separated.”

Sansa could not help the blush that spread across her cheeks as Robb’s amused gaze settled on her and found herself unable to look at Jon with her mother and brother present.

 

\--------

It was evening before the details had been arranged. There had been some complaints from the Night’s Watch, with Bowen Marsh loudly protesting the break with tradition, but with Sam’s help and Robb’s autocratic demand it be accepted, the objections were squashed, albeit with some murmured grumbling.

Sansa had paid no mind to any of this, ignoring the dark looks thrown her way and going about her business, tending her plants, but refusing to release Jon until the Night’s Watch had agreed much to Jon’s chagrin and Robb’s entertainment. Now her gardens were cleared from all the people and their wrangling, and it was just her and Jon once more, she whispered into her hands, allowing the climbing roses to part and regain their previous shape.

Jon remained standing in the centre of his former prison and Sansa walked towards him, slipping her hands into his.

“Are you angry at me?” she asked apprehensively.

He looked down at her, his eyes thoughtful. “I should be but I find that you know my mind better than I do myself.”

Smiling, she pulled him through the arching roses and pushed him down onto the grass where she had arranged food. He licked his lips in anticipation at eating after so long and she held a lemon cake out to him, her stomach clenching at his tongue curled around her fingers and he moaned his appreciation. Pushing the platters out of the way, Sansa launched herself into his lap, twining her arms around his neck, fingers spearing through the hair curled at his nape, and pressing her forehead to his.

“Thank goodness Robb had the foresight to demand we get tonight to ourselves.”

Jon said nothing, lowering his lips to attack hers hungrily.


End file.
